


Phagophobia

by PeculiarProjects



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Decisions, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Credit card fraud is not enough to get by, Dean is a little crazy, Desperate Winchesters, Gen, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, Gross, Honestly they're both a little crazy, I'm Not Ashamed, I'm Sorry, No Fluff, No Smut, Reasonable Sam, Sam and Dean are actually kind of terrible, Sam and Dean are poor af, Sam and Dean eat the monsters, Sam seems sane but is just as bad as Dean, Sorry Not Sorry, This is meant to gross you out, Vampire burning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-15
Updated: 2018-08-15
Packaged: 2019-06-18 08:01:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15481278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeculiarProjects/pseuds/PeculiarProjects
Summary: Phagophobia: Fear of being eatenWhat if Sam and Dean live much rougher lives than portrayed in the show? In this fic, they occasionally eat the monsters they have killed in order to survive since credit card fraud doesn’t always work to pay for food.A different way to look at how the Winchesters got by.





	Phagophobia

**Author's Note:**

> If you are triggered with topics along the lines of cannibalism, this probably isn't the story for you. Although it's not actually cannibalism, this story regards the possibilities of Sam and Dean eating the (very humanoid) monsters that they've killed in order to stay alive. It's understandable if you are uncomfortable; in fact, I WANT you to feel uncomfortable if you read this. The whole possibility of our beloved characters doing something so taboo in order to stay alive is a controversial, yet interesting concept for me, and I hope it is for you too. 
> 
> This is not set for a certain time, so it does not matter where you are in the Supernatural series.

Dean reached back, bringing the knife down hard on the growling creature in front of him. The female vampire unleashed a gurgling scream as she watched the knife come down onto her neck. The horrific wail was immediately cut off though once the head became separate from its neck, and her limp body collapsed. Her head rolled a few feet, stopping just shy of where Sam stood.

 

The taller brother glanced up and they made quick eye contact. Sam still held his own weapon defensively, wary of more vampires appearing. Dean, on the other hand, seemed relieved after seeing the still-warm corpse of his enemy. 

Sam walked away to survey the rest of the room, stepping silently despite his large frame. Once he determined that there were no more living members of that particular vampire nest, he returned to where he left Dean.

 

He found his brother carving into the dead vampire girl’s wrist, trying desperately to cut through the bone. He held her forearm and sawed back and forth with the bloodied knife, her skin dragging with the motion of the dulled teeth. 

 

“Dean, ugh, don’t,” was all Sam said. The disgust showed on his face, but Dean remained focused on the girl. 

 

Rather than actually acknowledging Sam’s words, he raised his weapon high again, slamming it down onto the ineffective cut. A small spatter of blood landed on Dean’s face and Sam’s legs. 

 

“Hm, I shoulda done that in the first place,” Dean commented, his tone light. 

 

Lifting the severed hand in the air, the older Winchester smiled brightly at Sam. Blood continued to pour from the open gash where an arm used to be connected. Dean’s hands were stained red. 

 

Sam’s lips remained puckered, especially once the metallic and sour scent reached his nose. He stood tall above Dean’s crouched position, arms crossed. 

 

Dean raised himself to his feet, attempting to brush the dirt and ash from his pants, but instead smeared fresh blood over them.

 

“Well? Aren’t you going to help me?” Dean swung the hand to gesture at the vamp lying on the floor.

 

“Um, no? Dean, that’s disgusting. We don’t do that. Stop cutting her up; we’re wasting time.” His voice left nothing up to imagination: Sam was upset and disgusted and impatient. He also emphasized harshly when he said, “We don’t do that.” 

 

“Sammy, are you serious? We’re almost out.” Dean trailed off, realizing what he accidentally revealed.

 

“What do you mean ‘we’re almost out’? We just hunted a few days ago!” Sam shouted, unconcerned about his volume because there was no living person around for miles.

 

“Yeah, I, uh, kinda ate the leftovers,” Dean explained sheepishly. 

 

Sam groaned audibly, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

 

“Dean, those weren’t  _ leftovers. _ They were  _ meals. _ ”

 

The blonde attempted to gesture at the body on the floor again, still swinging the severed hand around, but Sam already was shaking his head no. 

 

“They aren’t  _ edible. _ No matter how many times we hunt vampires, I’m not letting you chop them up for us to eat.” He stood firm on the matter.

 

“Honestly, you’re just not willing to be creative with our meals.” Dean pointed a finger at his brother and tilted his head slightly.

 

“No, I just don’t want to deal with us becoming  _ vampires, _ Dean. C’mon, grab the body. We need to put it somewhere so nothing is traced back to us.” Sam made a point to say “it,” rather than “her.” It made him feel slightly better with the pronoun change, but he still couldn’t help but think of the corpse as the living, breathing being it was before.

 

Dean puffed out a breath of air, evidently annoyed. He wanted to be able to boss his younger sibling around at that moment, but also knew that his brother was absolutely correct. Humans transformed into vamps after drinking vampire blood, and there was a chance that it could happen with the still drying blood of a vampire corpse. 

 

He leaned down and roughly grabbed the girl by her legs, tugging hard to pull her across the room.

 

“We have a cure for it anyway, don’t see the big deal,” he muttered under his breath, but Sam still managed to hear. 

 

“I’m not letting  _ either _ of us take that chance. I’m also not desperate enough to turn myself into a vampire everytime I eat.” His aggressive tone quickly diminished after he saw that Dean would listen to him. He grabbed some other vampire’s limbs in order to move it. Slinging the body over his shoulder, he picked up the head from the ground by the hair.

 

“And Dean, stop dragging it by the legs. You’re getting blood everywhere from that arm you so cleverly chopped off.” Sam rolled his eyes, making his way closer.

 

“It was a  _ hand _ , not an arm, for your information. And says you. You’re going to have vamp blood dripping down your entire friggin back the way you’re carrying that guy.” Dean ignored Sam’s angry curse of realization, successfully bringing the body outside without spreading too much of the blood around. 

 

He stared at the pale, yet bloodied hand once more before sullenly tossing it on top of its owner. Sam finally met him outside, and he unceremoniously piled the other vamp on its friend. They cleaned up the rest of the warehouse that way, ending with a tall pile of dead monsters. 

 

“That all of them?” Dean asked. 

 

“Yep. Should be,” was Sam’s curt reply. He watched Dean as he flipped open his lighter. 

 

“Hope they burn in hell,” the older Winchester stated, but his voice sounded distant. 

 

“Well, they certainly are now.” Sam wanted to smile, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it with such a high body count stacked in front of him, burning what appeared to be humans to crisps. 

 

While they waited for the fire to finally die down, they cleaned the floors of any supernatural evidence. That pretty much meant Sam confiscated and hid anything that indicated anyone living here, as well as anyone dying here. Dean disappeared for most of the clean up, which was typical. The younger Winchester walked around once more, satisfied. 

 

“Hey, we good to go?” Dean called from a different room.

 

“Yeah,  _ thanks for the help. _ I hope you were watching that fire.” Sam wiped his hands clean, grimacing as he still felt the stain of blood over his whole body. 

 

“Already taken care of.”

 

Dean led Sam outside, showing him where the stack of bodies had formerly lain. A layer of burnt wood crushed the vampires down, and Dean managed to find rocks in order to surround the area. If anyone came looking, they would think this was a large bonfire, not a resting place for monsters. 

 

“Huh, that’s actually pretty nice,” Sam approved.

 

“Now where are the marshmallows when you need them?” Dean smirked, and his brother just scoffed at him. 

 

“Let’s go. No one should be able to trace us, and we’ve been here far longer than we should have.” Sam left his brother, making his way towards the trees that concealed the parked Impala.

 

“I don’t think anyone cares whether we overstay our welcome or not,” the older Winchester commented, but Sam didn’t acknowledge him. He followed for a few steps, then halted abruptly.

 

“Just a sec, I forgot something.” His eyes were wide, but he rushed back to the empty cabin that the vampires used to call home.

 

Sam went to the back of the car, pulling it open to see if Dean really was telling the truth. How could he eat  _ everything _ they had stored? Proportions should be a thing, but apparently not when it came to a grown man named Dean Winchester. Sam should have noticed too. They don’t eat as often as they’d like, so it was hard to miss the chewing sounds of a meal. He was shocked by what he found instead of empty coolers, forcing his stomach to churn. 

 

Only a few minutes later, Dean reemerged with a knife in tow, one he must have fought with when they initially invaded the nest. He tucked it away in his jacket as he walked, pace suddenly much more relaxed.

 

“Dean, what the fuck is this?” Sam stared down in the trunk, one hand inside and the other clenched beside him.

 

“What?” Dean responded lazily, taking his time with making his way to his brother.

 

“This, all of this!” He gestured into the trunk, and Dean realized what he referred to. His stance became stiff and jittery. Inside of their various coolers lay large packets of blood, stacked up high against the ice packs. 

 

Dean scratched his head subconsciously, avoiding eye contact with his furious brother.

 

“Dean!”

 

“Okay, okay, I nabbed them from the nest we hit. Figured they weren’t going to be used anyway, so… might as well take them.” He shrugged, trying to play it off.

 

“Dean, did you drink any of that girl’s blood?” Sam’s voice turned to an irritated motherly tone. He gripped one of the blood packets, squeezing hard.

 

Dean didn’t respond immediately, and Sam suddenly grabbed his face harshly, pushing lips aside with his thumb in order to reveal his teeth. Dean slapped him away, jaw clenched and eyes fixed on Sam. 

 

“No, no! I am  _ not  _ a vampire, Sammy. I didn’t drink any of the vamp blood. I’m good, see?” He pulled the inside of his mouth to show his evidently human teeth. After Sam got a good look, Dean’s body relaxed and he raised his hands in the air. 

 

“But Dean, what were you even thinking of doing with this stuff? Please don’t tell me you were planning on drinking it.” Sam began resituating the trunk’s contents as he spoke, but then stopped to glare at Dean.

 

“It’s not like it was vampire blood…”

 

“Oh, c’mon! What if this nest was like the last, where they kept their  _ own _ blood in packets to turn people with? Dean, if that’s the case, we could have nearly twenty vampire blood packets in our car right now!” 

 

Dean shrugged, pointing to the blood piled up. “There  _ are  _ letters on these, so I think it’s fine. Vampires don’t have a blood type, right?” Dean suggested, but he sounded unsure.

 

Sam just sighed, holding the bridge of his nose with two fingers.

 

“Dean, vampires used to be human once. They probably have the same blood type as before they changed.”

 

We can’t be sure if these contain human or vampire blood. I probably should just get rid of them now.” He sighed again, but instead of pulling the coolers out, he slammed the trunk shut and made his way to the passenger side.

 

“But… you’re not gonna because you realize how desperate we are?” Dean’s sly smile could be heard in his voice.

 

Sam was already climbing into the car and Dean quickly sat in the driver’s side of his Impala. His keys were clutched in his hand, but he didn’t start the ignition. He stared at Sam expectantly, waiting for an actual answer. 

 

“We have nowhere to dispose of them right now.” Sam refused to look at him. Dean stayed quiet, knowing his brother will give more justifications if he waited.

 

“It’s going to be a while before I can make another fake credit card for us. And since  _ you _ ate all of the  _ food, _ we’re going to have to survive until then, especially if we don’t find another hunt in the next few days. We can use the blood as a last resort.” 

 

“We can mix them with the alcohol we’ve got stored away and pretend we’re at the bar.” Dean laughed as he made a gesture like taking shots. 

 

Sam leaned his elbow on the car door, dragging his hand slowly down his face.

 

“Just shut up and drive.” 

 

“Yessir,” Dean chirped, uncharacteristically amused by Sam’s irritation. He started the Impala and listened to the soft purr of the engine before forcing the wheels to crunch over gravel.

**Author's Note:**

> This was intended to be a one-shot, but I realized that I actually could make this into a series if enough people would be interested in reading it. As I said before, this is pretty messed up, but if you'd read more, please let me know!


End file.
